


London Is Waiting

by xikra1648



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Complicated Relationships, F/F, F/M, Flashback, Gang War, Most of the story is actually one giant flashback, Past Relationship(s), Reader Has Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 08:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: Parents shape their children, that much is true, but in unpredictable ways.  One child might become exactly like their father while the other becomes the complete opposite.  Luckily, for London's sake and to the relief of the Assassins, Crawford Starrick's daughter did not follow in his footsteps.  Not exactly, at any rate.  She opposed him, but in the shadows waiting for her moment to strike, keeping secrets from even her allies and going so far as to tell them lies.  White lies, small lies, lies that would be the only thing saving the life of the Assassins, but lies nonetheless.The secrets Jacob could live with, but the blatant lies crossed a line.  They ran London now that Starrick was gone.  Lines had been crossed, and crossed again when they had been forced to defend London from the Templars.  In the aftermath, Jacob finds himself thinking back to an easier time.  Back when only on thought fueled his life: London Is Waiting.





	1. Prologue: But Do You Love Me?

**Author's Note:**

> It's here!
> 
> These chapters are going to be a lot longer than...pretty much everything so it's going to take me a while to update (like I'm not sporadic with updating already).
> 
> ALSO, the reader's appearance is already decided in this one. Partially since it's longer and more complicated than Creed Hall it's easier, but there are also plot-related reasons (sorry guys, explaining involves spoilers) mixed in with the fact that her biological father is a rich white Templar who wanted a child to inherit his legacy and he had a very set idea of what that meant (alright that last part was part of the plot-related reasons but it's much less spoilery than it could have been).

# Chapter 0

### But...Do You Love Me?

 

Ten years after the assassination of Crawford Starrick and while the city had long since recovered, flourishing under the protection of Master Assassin Jacob Frye and his Rooks, those responsible for this newfound freedom were still suffering over wounds that had been allowed to fester for a decade.  The [Y/N] Starrick had taken over her father’s empire, as she had planned, ripping it from the hands of the Templars, giving _most_ of it to the Assassins, and keeping the rest for her own plans such as turning Starrick Manor into an orphanage and keeping the factories as safe, profitable, places for the people of London to earn an honest living.  It was hard and she was forced to make sacrifices and hard choices, including assisting in the murder of her own father, but it was worth it.

Both she and Jacob made it a point to deal with each other from a distance, as their positions as the _real_ masterminds behind the city required working together.  [Y/N] would at most, send him an email or she would send word to Jacob via the orphans and thieves that followed her, and Jacob would return by replying to [Y/N]’s email or sending word with his Rooks.  It was a tenuous peace between them, but it worked until two months ago.  The Templars were working to regain their footing in London, planning on attacking Jacob and [Y/N] simultaneously, which resulted in the two being forced to work together for a month until they annihilated the Templars and put a complete halt to their attempts at regaining the city.  Being forced to spend so much time together resulted in an argument, which then resulted in angry screaming and tears falling from [Y/N]’s eyes as the past was pulled up and old wounds were made to bleed once again.

 _“You lied and manipulated all of us for your own selfish gain!”_ Jacob was so angry he was practically _growling_.

 _“If you loathed me so much why did you even bother saving me?  You should have left me there!”_ [Y/N] snapped back.  Her upbringing kept her from actually screaming as the angry tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks from her wide eyes, just as impossibly blue as her father’s but purer, kinder, and deep enough to get lost in for hours.  A reporter had once joked that her eyes were the ‘bluest blue to ever blue.’  Jacob once loved staring into her eyes, but he had never _ever_ told her that.  He had yet to build up the courage to speak honestly, instead of simply joking around as friends, before the… _betrayal_.

That was when Jacob stormed towards the woman.  Dressed in old denim shorts and an oversized black t-shirt featuring her all-time favorite band (The Police) she was fully dressed and able to protect herself.  The thing was, she couldn’t raise a hand against Jacob.  Not when she never doubted that Jacob would _never_ sink that low, not unless she put forward a serious attempt to actually _kill_ him.  As reckless as he could be, Jacob was a gentleman and kind at heart.  Throughout everything, [Y/N] never doubted the Assassin’s goodness for a _second_.  Not when he went through so much to save her, even when he was still so, understandably, _angry_ for her lies.  Jacob grabbed [Y/N] by her cheeks and kissed her roughly, pouring anger, frustration, and passion all into one act.  It wasn’t long until he was pushing her into her bedroom, across the hall, and practically throwing her onto her bed after ripping off her t-shirt and pinning her down.

That was how they ended up here, after Jacob took his damn sweet time after [Y/N] sent word they needed to speak _immediately_ , even going so far as to leave two voice messages, Jacob was sitting on the couch in [Y/N]’s study and leaning forward against his knees.

“Are you _sure_?” he questioned again.

“For the _fifth time_ , Mr. Frye, six at home tests and two doctors have told me the same thing,” [Y/N] snapped, getting frustrated, “I’m pregnant.”

“But are you sure it’s-“

“I’ve had sex _once_ in the past _five years_ and it was _a month ago_ with _you_ ,” [Y/N] was getting more agitated by the second, “Unless someone managed to sneak into my bedroom and knock me up without my knowledge, it _has_ to be you.”

Jacob heaved a heavy sigh, trying to think about what to do as having a family was _never_ in his plans.  He had to ask, “So…do we…get married now?  Or…”

“Married?  No, I’ve intentions of marrying a man that loves me, not fucks me because he loathes me,” [Y/N] replied, succinctly, “But this _is_ your child and you have every right to know.”

“I don’t… _loath_ you…” Jacob answered, slowly.  He didn’t, he was just _angry_ at [Y/N] and he let things go too far.  He never should have let it get this far, because now…

“But do you _love_ me?” [Y/N] asked, calmly, looking Jacob in the eyes as she sat next to him on the couch.

He honestly didn’t know the answer to that…

His silence must have been telling, because [Y/N] placed a delicate hand on Jacob’s knee and said, “You need time to think about it.”

“Where do I start?” Jacob retorted with a sardonic chuckle, even though he was seeking an honest answer.  [Y/N] always seemed to have an answer to these things.

“Well…I thought back to the beginning, thought about what brought us here, and I found my answer.  Perhaps that is also where you will find yours.  Go home and take as much time as you need,” [Y/N] said before she gave Jacob her trademark crooked smile and added, “But perhaps get back to me before the baby is born.”

With a chuckle, Jacob got up and, not knowing what else to do, kissed [Y/N]’s head through her long blond hair she had tied back into a braid before taking off.  Through everything they talked about the only thing that rang through Jacob was [Y/N]’s only real question.

_But do you love me?_


	2. Chapter 1: Setting The Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before they had officially met, [Y/N] had already crossed paths with the Frye twins.
> 
> It went terribly for everyone involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the tutorial mission. Yes, the twins have Eagle Vision for story reasons.
> 
> Also, I have recently learned that 'sneaked' is apparently the preferred over 'snuck' in formal writing. However, as this is not formal writing and 'sneaked' sounds like a race of people in a Dr. Seuss book, I have decided to ignore this rule.

# Chapter 1

### Setting The Stage

 

Not a word was spoken as the three Assassin’s drove from Crawley to Ferris Ironworks in Croydon.  Evie Frye settled herself in the front as she went over her plans so many times they were getting stuck in _Jacob’s_ head.  Jacob, lounging in the back seat and cursing himself for leaving his headphones at home, attempted to tune out his twin sister’s musings by focusing on the world passing by though the window.  Senior Assassin George Westhouse, a former student of Ethan Frye and family friend who took over training the twins after Ethan’s death, stayed silent as he drove and the chances of him turning on the radio were slim to none.  They would get there by midday, giving the Frye twins until evening to eliminate their marks and get back to Crawley.

It was lucky that their targets were in the same area, but they could not be more different.  Jacob’s target, Rupert Ferris, the owner of Ferris Ironworks, known for abysmal treatment of his workers to the point that they died _because_ of work.  It only got worse after Templar Grandmaster Crawford Starrick purchased Ferris Ironworks, suddenly the employees of Ferris Ironworks weren’t even _human_ and the Creed didn’t even want to _think_ about how the girls that worked at Ferris’ newly acquired strip club were treated, and considering it was a poor front for an illegal brothel it couldn’t have been good.  It was best to just kill Ferris and use what funds the Creed had to purchase the dead Templar’s properties to change them for the better.  Sir David Brewster, however, had been knighted and spent his skills as a scientist studying what Pieces of Eden he could get his hands on.  He was a scientist, he was a Templar, but he wasn’t going to forgo his morals for scientific progress in his studies of the Apple of Eden, until he was threatened by his superiors regarding what would happen if he failed to show any results, that is.  He could have been a great man, had the Assassins reached him before the Templars, but that was no longer an option now that he was under Lucy Thorne’s thumb.  He was easily terrified, and the thought of betraying Lucy Thorne, let alone the Templars as a whole, froze the man in pure terror.  Dr. Brewster was making real headway in his studies of the Apple of Eden, and it needed to stop.  The retrieval of the Apple was secondary, Evie just needed to kill the doctor and get out.

It was a breathtakingly simple job, newly initiated Assassins could have pulled it off, Jacob and Evie couldn’t understand why George was so concerned.  To be honest, most of his concern came from concern over the twins themselves, a needless concern considering the twin’s skills and their current opponents.  The chances of the twins botching these missions, despite being the _Frye_ twins, were low and as precarious as things were for the Assassins the change made by the assassinations of Brewster and Ferris would be minimal at best.  At worst, failing to assassinate Brewer and Ferris would result in another attempt a few weeks later.

Still, George couldn’t shake the churning feeling in his gut that this was just the beginning of _something_ , but of _what_ he did not know.

The twins took off with nary a care, riding a smaller cargo train to their separate destinations.  Jacob took off towards the factory, kicking the car door shut before scaling an outer wall and into a window that he kicked shut behind him.  He took into account the scene around him, children far too young to be working gasping for breath in the mill as the adults around them did everything they could to protect the children, but they were already being overworked themselves.  Jacob had never taken the time to study laws, he slept his way through high school and while Evie put herself through the stress of balancing college and being an Assassin, Jacob wasn’t about to do that.  Still, he child labor was illegal and Ferris clearly had a fairly _blatant_ disregard for the safety regulations that governed factories in the UK.  One poor boy had been injured, pinned down by machinery until his coworkers could help him, and barked at by Ferris for it.  Of course, that didn’t make getting out of the factory any easier, nobody got out unless there was a real reason.

“I turn off the machines, the doors open,” Jacob smirked to himself after trying to open the door.  He turned and with two great steps he caught a running start before leaping and pulling himself up onto the metal catwalk to make his way around the valves, shutting each one until everything shut down.  Just like magic the door opened and Jacob waltzed right through, before he was cut off by the factory security, but based on the fact they all donned at least one red article of clothing Jacob guessed they were members of a gang.  He’d never seen their like before, but Templars rarely ventured close to Crawley as it was the one safe haven for the Assassins in the United Kingdom.  Still, things in the United Kingdom had become so precarious that the Council left, relocating to the safety of Italy and the underground passages and vaults hidden underneath the Auditore manor in Monteriggioni, which had been abandoned since the Borgia’s attacked the Assassin’s in retaliation for Ezio’s assassination of their patriarch.  The Council’s families, guards, and their families migrated to Italy, rebuilding overnight and turning the small village into a fortress not even the Templars would attempt to attack.

Jacob didn’t bother to investigate before brawling the gangsters, leaving them beaten and bloody on the ground, before slipping his way through the yard and entering the central mill.  It was covered in more guards, forcing Jacob to flip up the hood of his black sweatshirt as he made his way through the mill, silently eliminating the guards with either throwing knives or sneaking up on them with his hidden blade.  With a blink of hazel eyes, Jacob took in the world from a different view as the world around him turned to shades of gray to contrast the red that overtook the guards and his target.  The fastest way to Ferris was to scale the walls onto the second floor, where he snuck along the walkways before making his way to the overhead pipes and rafters to make his way to Ferris’s office.  He smirked as he observed that Ferris’s office had no ceiling before walking along the top of the walls lining the office.  With a flick of his wrist so practiced it was nothing more than an _instinct_ , Jacob’s hidden blade slipped out before he leapt down to pierce his blade through Ferris’s throat.

Despite the panic and screams of his secretary, Ferris was sure to make his last words known to Jacob.

“One death will not stop Starrick, you have merely loosened a cog.  A large cog, but nothing more,” Ferris spoke through blood filled coughs.

“Your Grandmaster will fall,” Jacob retorted, confidently, despite his frustration at the Council’s absolute refusal to act.

“Circle London to your hearts’ content, the mechanism we have built has been running for hundreds of years, and it will run a thousand more,” Ferris scoffed and nearly choked over his last words.

“We will take London from your hands,” Jacob was calmly positive of this much, at least.

“From _Croydon_?  You lurk in the shadows like a _coward_.  I _doubt_ it,” Ferris coughed on his last words, literally choking on his own blood until the end.  Perhaps the worst part of it all, however, was that Ferris was _right_.  Throughout history the Council had done nothing but sit and _wait_ for the _right moment_ to take London from the Templars, but the perfect moment never came.  As they waited the Templars became more and more entrenched into the city itself, into the entire fucking _world,_ until now, when there was nothing in the city that wasn’t touched or hunted by the Templars and there was very little in the world left untouched.  If they didn’t act now, there would be no rescuing London at all.

After Ferris breathed his last breath, Jacob pulled a pristine, white handkerchief from his pocket and brushed it across Ferris’s pierced neck.  Jacob stood, tucking the bloodied kerchief into the pocket of his worn dark jeans.  His planned exit was to rid the top of the cargo train that was just departing, however he wasn’t the only person that caught onto that plan.  Like moths to a flame the red coated gangsters leapt onto the roof of the train to fight Jacob.  He had an advantage, a noticeable one, in that he knew how to stand, walk, and run on the roof of a moving train.  Years of training as an Assassin had made train walking instinctual to him, just like it had any other Assassin, while anyone else would simply fly off the second they attempted to stand.  A few made their way to Jacob, but he made quick work of them.  It was looking like he was going to get away, the red-adorned security speeding past in an (unsurprisingly) red car, and Jacob let his confidence get the better of him.

“Lost your bottle boys?” he taunted only seconds before he saw the lever that would change the direction the tracks ran, and send the train and anyone on it careening towards a cliff instead of back to town.  In a moment that Jacob would relive again and again and wish he acted differently, particularly as he got older, Jacob turned on his heel and began running towards the back of the train, instead of leaping off to the side and the safety of solid ground.  As Jacob clung to the side of the wooden bridge that had fallen long before the crash, sticking close to avoid being hit by the flaming pieces of metal that _once_ formed a train, and even after as he carefully jumped to safety only one thought crossed his mind.

“Maybe next time I’ll walk…”

 

Evie hadn’t fared much better, in the end, despite her wildly different approach.  As she rode the train to Brewster’s lab she repeated her plan as she poured over the map on her cell phone.  When she was sure she had it down she tucked her phone back into her pocket before slipping the hood of her black cardigan over her head and waiting for the red coated guard to make his way towards her before she quickly stabbed him with her hidden blade and pulled the bleeding, soon to be corpse, into hiding with her.  She snuck her way through the train until she reached the front, where she disconnected the engine and front two cars from the rest of the train and hid, waiting for the majority of Brewster’s guards to follow the tracks and investigate the missing cars.

Evie’s first priority was high ground, sneaking through the yard before grabbing the rope of a nearby cargo lift and kicking the latch at the bottom, effectively breaking the lift but not before it pulled Evie to the top of the crane where she could observe the grounds in person.  A map can only teach you so much, after all, especially when it’s not complete.  With a practiced blink of pure blue eyes, Evie observed her surroundings to the smallest detail, from enemies glowing red to potential tools to use to her advantage glowing yellow, to hidden doors and passageways glowing gold against the dull gray shades of the rest of the world.  It was from here she saw a man in blue captured by Brewster’s men, being accused of being sent by _Green_ , presumably another Assassin conducting his own investigations.  Though, why he would be so unaware of the Council’s orders was a bit of a mystery, but it was one that Evie did not have time for.  It was a shame the man was being captured, but there was a job to do and no time to deviate from the plan.  No, the most important thing she witnessed was Sir David Brewster himself arguing with a woman, an authoritative woman of the Templars who was no doubt giving Brewster his orders.

“I need two more weeks with the device,” Brewster pleaded, but his superior wasn’t having it.  Her pursed red lips pursed into a permanent frown and her red hair pulled so tightly onto the back of her head only made her look more severe, and the black and violet attire decorated with an audacious choker adorning Templar crest around her neck only served to fuel Evie’s instantaneous distaste for the woman.

“Your questionable practices have begun to draw more than enough attention.  You have been given more than enough time to achieve results, Sir David,” the woman, who Evie recognized as Lucy Thorne, Crawford Starrick’s chosen expert on the precursor artifacts and right hand, sneered.

“I was unaware that you expected me to perform like a cocker spaniel,” Brewster replied with a smile, clearly not appreciating the way he was being treated by those in charge.  There was clearly no love to be lost between them, as was common in cases such as these.  Science and research cannot be rushed, but it seemed that only scientists themselves truly grasped that concept.

“Permit me to remind you of your obligation to the order,” Thorne’s reminder served more as an unspoken threat, or even a promise of what _would_ happen if Brewster failed to supply results.

“Miss Thorne, you ride me like a race horse.”

“Sir David, I will return tomorrow,” Thorne was not hearing any of Brewster’s excuses, “If you have not unlocked the device’s secrets, forget your dogs and horses.  I will leave you to the _wolves_.  Good day.”

Standing with ease on the slippery metal crane, Evie leaned forward into a practiced swan dive as she let gravity take her down into a small carriage of dead leaves that had been raked and gathered to be cleared from the grounds.  She waited for the perfect opportunity to whistle to the guard in front of her, catching his attention before placing a deadly pierce of her hidden blade to his kidney before pulling him into the carriage of leaves with her.  Evie snuck out silently and crossed the train tracks, eliminating the guard on that side before sneaking further into the compound.  She stumbled upon a hidden underground passage, intending to take it instead, before finding out it only led to a dead end and a chest, though she made sure to gather what she could use out of the chest before sneaking back through the brick passageway and climbing yet another crane.  She fully intended on getting in and out without being seen, to which extent she climbed and leapt her way across the train before leaping onto a balcony leading into the lab…or what was supposed to be the lab.

_Where_ was the laboratory?  Every bit of information recovered pointed to the laboratory being exactly where Evie was standing, so why was she standing in what looked to be nothing more than a warehouse?  As she snuck around she heard the captive being interrogated, specifically asked how he entered the _secret_ laboratory when the entrance was hidden.  It looked like Evie would be taking that detour to save him after all.  He had information she needed.

She snuck through the warehouse, dispatching of the single guard before making her way to the former office where the man in blue was being questioned.  Evie peered around the corner before silently rolling a smoke bomb into the room, insuring it would set off at the precise time and place to surround all occupants in a thick smoke.  Evie, through years of practice and the red glow her targets took with a blink of her eyes, could easily see to quickly dispose of the guards.  She did not untie their captive but turned to look at him, still faintly glowing as her vision reverted to normal.

“Ah!  Thank you kindly!  I was in ever such a squeaky fix when- what do you know- you rescue me,” the man greeted jovially after briefly struggling with the bindings that kept him in the wooden chair.  There was something about this man that irked Evie, a cocky lightheartedness and the fact that the charm he exuded was clearly _forced_ that made her leave him there when she had the information she needed.  It was most likely the assumption that he could charm her by treating her like his hero.  Poor fool didn’t know Evie’s twin brother was the one and only Jacob Frye, who could charm a miser out of his last coins without nary a thought.

“Where’s the hidden laboratory?” Evie cut directly to the chase, she had a job to do and it was already taking far longer than planned.

“Untie me and we can make a deal,” he replied flatly, clearly understanding that Evie was more likely to kill him if he kept throwing dashing smiles and flattery her way.

“I’m pressed for time, tell me now,” Evie said lowly as she stepped forward, the raspy tone of her alto voice and the blood of the guards that still dripped off of her hidden blade catching the man’s attention and putting his situation into perspective.  He might have been freed from the frying pan, but one wrong move and he was dropped directly into the fire.

"It’s underground, requires a key.  One of the guards nicked mine, cheeky sod,” he answered, a bit nervous.

“Thank you,” Evie replied, putting on a poor friendly facade to cover just how irritated she was.  If anything, it only highlighted just how bad her day was already going as she began to step away.

“Um, now will you let me out?”

“You got yourself in there, I trust you can get yourself out again,” Evie retorted, smiling dangerously before continuing on her way out of the office.

“Not to worry, m’lady.  I can still recall a couple of tricks from my carny days!”

Evie couldn’t say as she cared, though she was mildly curious who in the actual hell worked in a carnival in the 21st Century.  She was more focused on figuring out who had a key to the laboratory and just where the door was, but the creaking of the chair caught her attention and when she turned to look, he was gone.  She just shook her head and climbed her way to an open window, leading to the roof.  She carefully made her way across the rooftops of the compound, sure to avoid the sea of red while looking out for the one gold who _had_ to have her key.  She found him in another warehouse, sneaking around corners and crates as she waited for him to stand alone.  It would be best if she could steal the key without killing him and minimize the chances of heightened security or alarms.  Evie waited and waited before the perfect moment finally struck and she snuck up on the man, picking his pocket before disappearing back into the shadows without a trace.  She clambered her way back up to the roof and looked over the scene once again.  The largest building, tucked all the way in the back of the compound with the heaviest security.  That was where the laboratory was, now all she needed to do was get there.

Sticking to the rooftops it was a simple matter of getting to the laboratory without being spotted.  She snuck in through yet another open window on the roof, people never learn, and stuck to the rafters as she made her way through the long warehouse before she saw a heavily secured door tucked away in the back and under constant guard.  Still, she had to make sure.  She looked down at the key in her hand, glowing gold as she focused intently, before looking back up at the door which was glowing the exact same shade.  She tucked the key back into her pocket before sneaking around the side, making sure there were no guards on their way, before leaping down and eliminating the single guard.  She quickly opened the door and shut it behind her, rushing to the elevator and heading down before anyone noticed.

It was a simple matter of sticking to the back passageways and overhead catwalks until she had the perfect angle to leap down on Sir David Brewster, but something caught her eye, something that wasn’t the Apple of Eden.  No, it couldn’t be possible.  Nobody could have found their way down here, not without crossing paths with Evie.  She tried to reach towards the Apple, but the electricity that Brewster was pouring into it made the entire device unstable, and sent a painful shock down Evie’s arm just from reaching out towards it.  Perhaps it would be best to deactivate the device before retrieving the piece of Eden.

She leapt down, striking Sir David Brewster in the neck with her hidden blade, and laid the researcher down to speak his final words.

“It is time to lay down your head, Sir David Brewster,” Evie said, respectfully, as she carefully lay the man down.

“But I have so much more to discover…” Brewster lamented.

“Do not be afraid-“

“I am not.  God will protect me.”

God was something that many Assassin’s did not believe in, at least not as firmly or relentlessly as the Templars.  Those who did believe also believed that God wished for his people to be free, to choose to believe in and serve him not to be enslaved to do so, or be enslaved at all for that matter.  Evie, however, remained utterly undecided on the topic.  While she believed in ghosts and spirits, she was unsure of how to approach the idea of any God.  Her brother was of no help on the matter, he vehemently _denied_ any existence of higher beings and the supernatural without a second thought.  Still, while Evie did not have the answers she wished for, she liked to believe there was _something_ looking out for her, or at least for her mother and father.

“I will continue your research,” Evie attempted to comfort the man, hoping that someone else searching for answers would be enough to console him.

“You will not stop Starrick.  Miss Thorne already found another Piece of Eden, more powerful than the last,” he admitted, or maybe warned.  Perhaps deathbed regrets, or anger and hatred towards his employment to Starrick and dealings with Thorne were driving this confession.  But then…does it really matter?

“I will find that one too,” Evie promised.

“We fight to gain what we cannot take with us, it is in our nature,” Brewster spoke with his last breath, wishing his last words to be those of wisdom rather than anger.  Evie gently lay down his head and pulled one pristine handkerchief from her sweater pocket and wiped it along the wound in Brewster’s neck, before tucking it back into an inner pocket of her coat.  Evie stood up, preparing to grab the Apple, but when she looked up she quickly discovered she _hadn’t_ been imagining things.  Someone else _really did_ make their way down to the hidden lab without her noticing.

It was a woman, a young woman who couldn’t be any older than she was and was probably even younger, dressed in worn black shorts with a few small tears, a worn knee-length black coat with a hood that covered the top half of her face in shadows and remained buttoned to hide her top, and a black scarf tied around her neck that covered the lower half of her face.  She was hanging, precariously, off of the railing of the catwalk closest to the device that kept the Apple electrified, her old and worn in black leather gloves and abused knee-length black boots must have given her better gripping than they looked.  She looked like she came prepared as well, a black leather belt holding a pouch strapped to her right thigh, a holster holding a large knife to her left thigh, and a black belt hooked only through the belt straps on the left side of her shorts, as there was a litany of small pouches hanging from the right side of the belt.  What Evie did notice was the lack of multiple layers and the light nature of the thief’s clothing, such as those Evie wore, allowed for much lighter and swifter movement.  This woman, however, wore much lighter and much _less_ than Evie, which certainly explained why Evie didn’t notice her until now.

Despite barely being able to see her face, Evie and the other woman were caught in a deadlock stare before the woman broke it, reaching into the electric field and snatching the Apple before flipping over the railing and taking off.  Evie made a move to chase after her, but the loss of the Apple caused Brewster’s device to become unstable and take the entire laboratory down with it.

As she escaped the lab, and the rubble, Evie made sure to keep an eye out for the woman but to no avail.  Her only solace was that, if she was stealing the Apple from the Templars, she could not be a Templar herself.  George had mentioned that, with the Council returning to Monteriggioni the Italian Brotherhood, and in particular the last direct Auditore descendants, the Miles family, had become obsessed with reclaiming the Pieces of Eden even to the point of acting without the Council’s knowledge. 

Evie was still catching her breath when she returned to the meeting point, where Jacob was sitting atop some crates as he waited.

“What was that explosion?” Jacob asked, casually, as if he hadn’t actually expected it to be Evie’s doing, but she knew her brother better than that.

“What explosion?” Evie replied, bent over and leaning against her knees as she caught her breath.

_"Evie.”_

“Someone stole the Piece of Eden out of the containment field and caused the entire place to detonate,” Evie snapped.

“Someone else wanted their hands on the magic lump of shiny hyperbolic metal?” Jacob teased as he slid off of the crates he was sitting on to stand in front of his sister and tease, “I’m _shocked.”_

“This just _proves_ that they are worth investigating!” Evie argued, her brother had never seen the value of the Pieces of Eden no matter what she said, “Simply because _you_ never-“

“All went according to plan?” George cut in, questioning the twins.

“There was a slight complication,” Evie replied, smiling through her irritation.

“How slight?” George demanded.

“A thief stole the shiny antique and the lab exploded,” Jacob answered for Evie.

_“Jacob!”_ Evie did _not_ appreciate Jacob’s help.

“You derailed a train,” George pointed out, adding fuel to the fire that was the bickering twins.

“Oh, he did, did he?” Evie smirked.

“The train derailed and I _happened_ to be on it, I killed my target,” Jacob defended himself.  It wasn’t _far_ from the truth, but the train likely wouldn’t have derailed if he _wasn’t_ on it.

“Brewster is also no more,” Evie reported.

“Then all in all a successful mission, in _spite_ of you two,” George snapped back.  He had such high hopes for the twins, they had so much potential, and yet they continued to do… _this_.

“What about London?” Jacob stepped forward, asking the question that had been nagging on his mind since before he assassinated Ferris, and it had only gotten worse since.

“What about it?” George stepped forward as well, as if stepping up to a challenge.

“We’re wasting our time out here!”

“You know as well as I do that London has been the domain of the Templars for _hundreds of years_.  They are far too strong yet.  _Patience_.”  George had said the same words to the Frye twins many times already, and every time it was more and more likely they would ignore him.

“But the Templars have found a new Piece of Eden,” Evie pointed out, “And we don’t even know who stole this one.”

“More likely than not it was a member of the Miles family that grew impatient,” George replied as he continued to urge the twins toward patience, “Sir David is dead, they do not know how to use this new Piece of Eden they found.  The Council shall guide us, sound advice that your father would have seconded.  I’ll see you back at the car.”

It was a mistake leaving the twins there, unsupervised, to have a peaceful dinner instead of dragging them back to the car to go through a drive-through for dinner and get the twins Happy Meals out of spite.  At least, that was what George thought when he first discovered they were missing.

“ _Patience_ , Evie,” Jacob repeated, he was sick of being told to be patient.  The Assassin’s had been patient since the French Revolution and it had only left them worse off than they had started, with the status of things quickly deteriorating even more.

“Ah,” Evie let out a sardonic laugh as she heard the train to London taking off, “The gentle sound of opportunity passing us by.”

“So, what are we waiting for?  London is _waiting_ to be liberated.  _Forget_ Crawley,” Jacob urged.

“Father would have wanted us to listen-“

That was just like Evie, continuing to listen and obey despite _knowing_ that it was the wrong thing to do.  All she needed was a little _push_.  As angry and frustrated as Jacob was with their father, there was one thing he _never_ forgot, Ethan Frye acted when necessary.

“Oh, father.  You could continue his legacy in _London_ ,” Jacob argued.

“Freeing future generations from a city ruled by Templars,” Evie mused before admitting, “You know, Jacob Frye, you might just be right.”

“Then shall we?”

“Yes, let’s.  Onward to London!”

The twins excitedly rushed towards the train taking off towards London, hopping onto an empty cargo box and watching as the world passed them by on their way to a new adventure.  Little did they know that only a few cars down, in the luxury passenger car, sat a young woman only two years their junior by the name of [Y/N] Starrick.  Her long black coat was unbuttoned to reveal her black lace spaghetti strap with an opaque black layer underneath that covered from the neckline to the bottom of her ribcage.  She had removed her scarf and tucked it into the bag with her bounty and untied her blonde locks from the braided ponytail she had tied it into, allowing it to fall over her shoulders to her bust, but she kept her hood up in case Lucy Thorne made her way into the carriage and kept the black backpack in which she had stashed her now useless bounty and gloves in.  She needed to hurry home, quickly, before anyone found out she had left London at all.  Had she known Miss Thorne was going to be there, she would have waited, or even begged to go with her for a tour of the lab.  She was barely allowed to leave the house without supervision, let alone the city, but this was something that _had_ to be done.

It would delay the Templars, but if the Assassin’s did not act soon…the thief would have to take matters into her own hands.


End file.
